She disappears down the hall to grab her bag, and I take the chance to snag Tate’s car keys off the counter. Tate’s heading for the door, the early fall afternoon air hits as we step outside. I unlock the SUV with a quick click, the sound echoing off the lot.
“Shotgun’s not up for debate,” Haven says as she hurries to walk ahead of us.
“Didn’t think it was,” I say, grinning.
She slides in first as Tate drops in behind her with that half-grump, half-smirk I can’t quite read. I circle around to the driver’s side, catching her eye as I climb in.
Humming along to the radio to fill the quiet, I steal glances at her, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the tiny crinkle at the corner of her eye when she smirks at Tate.
The theater is surprise empty. Rows and rows of seats and not a single other person. Haven stops halfway down the aisle, turning back to us with a grin that lights her whole face.
“We’ve got the place to ourselves,” she whispers.
Tate slides his hands into his pockets. “Figures. Guess the galaxy-saving blockbuster isn’t a hot ticket today.”
“Good,” Haven says, tugging me forward by the hand until I stumble after her. “Means I don’t have to share my popcorn.”
She drops into the perfect center seat, and the moment she does, I know exactly how this ends. Sure enough, Tate sits on one side, stretching out, claiming the armrest.
I settle on her other side, leaning close enough that her shoulder brushes mine. She doesn’t even pretend she’s not enjoying it.
The previews roll. She pretends to watch, legs crossed, one hand digging into the tub of popcorn balanced on her lap. I can’tstop watching her instead, the way she licks the salt from her fingers, casual and careless, makes my stomach knot. I press a kiss to the top of her head before I can stop myself. She tilts her face up, and suddenly kissing her properly feels like the only option.
Her lips part under mine, sweet and soft until she jerks with a muffled gasp.
I pull back slightly to see Tate’s hand on her thigh, sliding up slow. He doesn’t even glance at her, eyes on the screen, as his fingers work higher beneath her hoodie.
She squirms, but he’s relentless, now stroking down the inside of her thigh until her knees part without her meaning to. “Relax, pretty girl,” he murmurs.
She trembles as I kiss her again, greedy, swallowing the sound she makes when Tate finally cups his hand over her pussy.
The movie’s explosions drown her sharp inhale, but I feel it all. The way she arches, the way her fingers fist in my shirt.
Tate rubs slow circles, his touch firm enough to make her moan softly. “So wet already.”
I nearly lose it. Her mouth is hot under mine, desperate, her breath breaking every time Tate presses harder. I trail kisses down her throat, whispering against her skin, “You’re perfect. Always perfect for us.”
Tate slides his hand beneath her leggings, pushing the thin barrier of her panties aside. She gasps, clutching me tighter, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers touch bare heat. “Fuck.” he groans.
I can barely breathe watching her. Her thighs shake, hips rocking against his hand, every tiny sound muffled against my mouth. I kiss her deeper, trying to keep her quiet, trying to take every whimper she can’t hold back.
Tate pushes one finger inside her slow. She jerks, biting down on a moan, her whole body tightening between us. Mychest aches with how much I want her, how much I love seeing her unravel.
He works her open, steady and unhurried, then adds another finger, stretching her until she shudders. Her hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist. “Breathe,” I whisper against her lips. “We’ve got you, baby. Just let go.”
Tate curls his fingers just right, hitting the spot that makes her cry out into my mouth. I kiss her harder, swallowing the sound.
“Look at you,” fucking her slow with his hand. “Falling apart in the middle of a theater. Can’t get enough, can you?”
Her hips moving helplessly, chasing his hand. She’s panting, moaning into my mouth, body arching as he drags her closer and closer. She’s right there, teetering on the edge, trembling so hard I have to hold her steady.
And then he stops.
She chokes on a sound that’s half a cry, half a plea. Her whole body jerks, desperate for more, but Tate pulls his fingers free slowly.
Her wide eyes snap to him, glassy and furious.
Tate smirks, licking his fingers. “Not yet. You’ll come when we decide.”
